


An Unlikely Savior

by HoneyGrunge



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Implied Consent, Mental Instability, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Penis In Vagina Sex, Reader-Insert, Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:15:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26022520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyGrunge/pseuds/HoneyGrunge
Summary: You're trapped in a cage, tortured by the desert sun, when Max raids your captor's camp for supplies. Will he leave you to die as any other self-respecting survivor would, or does his particular brand of madness allow for a modicum of compassion?
Relationships: Mad Max/Reader, Max Rockatansky/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 23





	An Unlikely Savior

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to imagine this as Tom Hardy's Max, but I wrote this based off of Mel Gibson's characterization and Max's trauma from the first movie. I think the characterizations are pretty similar, but imo Gibson's Max is a little more unhinged haha. Don't hate me but I also think he's hotter uWu

Your lips were scorched; cracked and peeling to reveal the raw bloody skin beneath, like paint chipping off the body of an old world racer in the radioactive miasma of the southern dunes. How many days had passed since you’d been caught? How many sun rotations had poisoned your flesh as you lay here, rotting in this iron cage like a clipped bird, suspended high above the fiery sand that not even a scale-bellied sidewinder could bear? Time did not exist, and it hadn’t existed since the burning explosions that rocked the earth so long ago. Now there was only the great light and the little light, and you found yourself lusting for the cooler shine of the silver mother as the wretched father patiently cooked every layer of your flesh. 

This pitiful state is why you did not hear the screams down below, nor the gunshots that ricocheted off your bars and cracked open the skulls of your captors. You did not notice the black-haired man as he pried open the cage and stared at you, unwinding heavy cloth from his sand-worn face to take in the scene before him. Unless mercy moved him to compassion, you would quietly join the countless souls gone before you into the great mystery. Your survival hinged on his willingness to share the liquid gold in his canteen that flowed deep in underground caverns, unsullied by the burning poison plaguing the lakes and rivers up top.

You barely registered the man’s arms slipping under you before your grip on reality was lost. Hissing out your agony through broken teeth, you slipped down into a dreamless coma as he loaded you into his metal steed and gathered what could be salvaged. Then he was off, accelerating away from the sun and back to his camp, to some oasis in this cursed desert.

Perhaps, for some ungodly reason, you would not be released from this burning purgatory today. Only time would tell if this would serve you well, or deliver you into the hands of even more exquisite pain.

  
  
  
  
  


No memories took hold in the rotations that passed, as you swam in and out of consciousness and wrestled for your survival. Water and warm broth was repeatedly forced down your swollen throat. Calloused, scarred hands patiently waited to try again as you coughed the lifesaving liquids back up, until your body slowly began to accept survival once more. You became more aware as time went on, occasionally recognizing that you were staring at a stone ceiling, or up into the piercing eyes that were gauging your progress. Finally, something switched in your mind and consciousness came crashing back down with enough force to send you flying out of the bed, snarling like a rabid mutt with teeth bared, ready to maul whoever or whatever threatened your life once again. But the only one that stared back at you was the man with black hair and shrewd blue eyes. No weapons were aimed at you, and no malice lurked in the grim line of his chapped lips.

“Welcome back,” he said, reaching to his side without breaking eye contact and grabbing a crude copper bowl. “Supper?”   
  


“What are you going to do to me?” you croaked. Your fingernails cut deep into the flesh of your palms and your eyes darted wildly, looking for any path of escape if it became a necessity.

“I wouldn’t feed you only to kill you,” he explained, but you weren’t convinced.

“That’s what every master tells their sex slave,” you snarled in retaliation, but despite your fears the more urgent matter was eating something before you lost consciousness again.

You snatched the bowl from his outstretched hand and sat heavily, realizing that what he’d given you this time was stew instead of a simple broth. There was some sort of lumpy grain mixed with gristly meat. You hoped it was meat from the various lizards that thrived in this wasteland and not some half-life warboy this man had killed at the encampment. The man watched as you wolfed down the food with nothing but your fingers and the ragged chokes of eating too fast. When you were done you took more, noting the slight scowl that he was giving you. You reckoned that if you tried for a third bowl you’d lose a hand, so you finished and sat quietly, waiting for him to say something.

“I saved your life,” he said, prodding you to conversation.

“I suppose you want to be fucked as payment?” you said, trying to appear menacing but failing quite terribly. In all honesty, the idea wasn’t repulsive. You’d had far uglier men between your legs, and unless this lone wolf got his climax by killing his partners like a fair number of the warlords in this desert, you supposed you had nothing to fear.

“Don’t be vulgar,” he chastised, looking pained. His eyes were now unfocused and far away, as if the mention of sex had triggered some deeply buried memory that he’d much rather forget. You’d have to tread carefully with this one; he was quite possibly more dangerous if he didn’t leap at the opportunity for sex. It would be more difficult to manipulate him.

“...what do you want, then?” you asked.

“Scrap. For the car. You’ll help me gather scrap, then be on your way.”

The simplicity of his request startled you. Collecting  _ scrap _ ? Not even some crackbrained suicide mission for guzzoline?

“All right,” you agreed, allowing yourself to indulge in a small rush of relief when he nodded.

“You’ve had enough sleep for five men this week. Go now, don’t come back until you have at least half a bucket of metal for me.”

He snapped his fingers and a dog that you hadn’t noticed before trotted into view. It parked itself by your side and bared its teeth; of course he wouldn’t have let you go alone. Not wanting to anger him, you set off immediately, relieved that it was currently nightfall. You had no desire to see the sun any more than was necessary after this past ordeal.  
  
  


Life continued like this for three days and nights, until you’d gathered quite a sizable pile of junk for him to sift through and utilize. He’d only spoken to you to give orders or get your attention; he didn’t seem to particularly enjoy your presence, for whatever reason. You figured it had something to do with a particular trademark of madness: paranoia.

As you sat on the cold stone and watched him work, you couldn’t help but begin to feel a build-up of anxiety. Exactly where were you supposed to go once he decided that you’d repaid your debt? You had nobody to go to. Would he kick you out? Would he kill you and eat you, curing your meat to feed to the next hapless survivor he came across in the form of a deceptively friendly stew? The uncertainty grew and grew until the anxiety became too much to bear and your teeth clenched hard enough to send lightning bolts of pain down through your neck. He seemed a good enough man, even if he’d lost his marbles. Despite your fears, he was your best chance of survival. Being a parasite on the back of an skilled fighter was one of the best things most people could do for themselves these days. Not to mention that he wasn’t difficult on the eyes by any stretch of the imagination.

“It’s not polite to stare,” he said, shaking you out of your concentration. You were caught off guard by the way the fire’s flickering light accentuated his strong features. Unable to help yourself, you blushed, hoping he couldn’t see it in the unreliable light.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, realizing how long it had been since you’d had a man and  _ enjoyed it _ . You’d certainly never come across a man as beautiful as him, and now that your basic needs had been fulfilled, your body was turning its attention to the luxury of lust.

The man sighed and set down what he was working on, then wiped off his hands and stood to get ready for bed. This was his nightly routine: eat, work, then straight to sleep. You licked your lips as you watched him pull off his jacket and wet a cloth to run over his torso. His chest gleamed in the firelight; he was hairy, but not overly so, and no cancerous growths marred his skin like on so many other men. You let yourself stare, hoping this time that he would see you and understand what you wanted. He turned to call for the dog that was currently seated next to you, having grown somewhat attached to you over the past days. His eyes met yours and he sustained the contact, but his face did not change. He broke the exchange and walked into the shadows to his bed, leaving you to do as you wished for the time being.

You curled up on the pile of tattered rags that served as your bed and considered the risk. If he didn’t like sex, he may kill you for trying to touch him.

But if he let you live, you would have your sweet release.

It wasn’t long before you had slipped off of the makeshift bed and ventured deeper into the cave to find him. The faint glow of a lamp shone around the corner of a stalagmite; when you rounded it you found him lying on a small cot with a shotgun at his side. He had to know you were there, although if he did he didn’t betray the fact that he knew.

You shuffled forward and knelt, welcoming yourself into his privacy and slipping onto the cot next to him. As soon as your skin touched his you couldn’t help but gasp as your body reacted to the touch. He didn’t move, but he didn’t tense up either, which you took as encouragement.

“What’s your name, mister?” you whispered, hesitantly stroking your hand up his arm.

“...Max.”

“This is gonna be kinda difficult without you facing me, Max,” you teased. As soon as his name left your lips he flipped, pinning you down by the throat and leaning in until his nose was touching yours. He looked conflicted: aroused and upset, confused as to what he wanted. But the expression was gone almost as fast as you’d noticed it, and his lips came crashing down on yours with the crazed fury of a man long denied. You moaned into the kiss and gasped when he bit your lip hard enough to draw blood; your arousal was fanned into full flame when he grunted harshly in response to your pleasured mewls. You wrapped your left leg around his trim hip and gyrated against him, noting with a smirk that he was already hard enough to cut diamond. As expected, he ignored any semblance of foreplay and simply ripped open your shirt, taking one of your breasts into his palm and squeezing roughly until you groaned. 

Before you could say anything he had scrambled up onto his knees and was working himself out of his pants, baring himself to the cool air and your gaze. You whimpered with need and felt a surge of insane, burning need deep in your belly. Max was impressive,  _ most  _ impressive, thick and more than long enough to satisfy your needs. You didn’t have a chance to notice anything else about it because he had fallen forward and trapped your head between his forearms, thrusting wildly while your ankles dug deep into the shapely curve of his ass. He found his mark and groaned, wild and furious in his need, then thrusted  _ hard  _ and fully seated himself in one swift stroke. You choked off a scream and Max snarled like a wild animal, fully caught up in that primal drive to release. Thankfully you were more than wet enough for this brutal entry, and the rabid edge to your arousal slightly soothed the pain.

Max was hammering into you with abandon, his labored breaths peppered with groans and strangled grunts. His face gleamed in the glow of the lamp and his pupils were blown wide; the sight of such a handsome man drunk on ecstasy was almost enough to send you over the edge. His cock kept slipping past your sweet spot and you could feel a glorious tension building within yourself.

Without warning, he did something that had you unraveled within seconds.

Max had snaked his hand down to where your bodies connected without you noticing, so when his fingers began rubbing your clitoris you were entirely caught off guard.

“Max,  _ yes _ !” you screamed, clenching down on him like a vice as your orgasm slammed into you. You bucked beneath him and sobbed out your pleasure while Max quickly approached his own peak. His hips stalled and he groaned more urgently than before; you felt him twitch deep inside you, signalling the end of his race for a slice of heaven. You tried to kiss him but he turned his face away and rolled off of you, landing on the ground with a thump and shoving you away when you tried to follow him.

“ _ Don’t touch me _ ,” he hissed, sitting up and tugging an old undershirt on. You obeyed, wary of this change in his behavior. “And don’t say Max when you come, I don’t like that. Too...too many memories.”

“Okay,” you said, getting up and pulling your torn shirt closed as best you could. You hurried back to bed and winced as you lay down; he’d done a number on you, but it had been worth it. You didn’t notice that he’d followed you until an extra blanket was tossed and landed on your stomach.

“You’ve been shivering in your sleep,” he explained quietly, then walked back to his own bed.

Whatever the source of his madness, there was still kindness buried beneath it. As you drifted off to what would be the deepest sleep you’ve had in years, you hoped that Max could find it within himself to share more of that kindness with you, for it was more valuable than any amount of guzzoline in this barren land.

Mad or not, Max was your biggest hope for survival. 

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter and Tumblr: Maedhros36
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! <333


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